


O My Heart

by multi_fan_writing



Category: South Park
Genre: 'Stage kisses', Alternate Universe - High School, Craig is a gay(tm), F/F, F/M, Lots of pining woah, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Past Stendy, Warning: Read beginning note so you can understand what the fuck is going on, Wowza a musical
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 16:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13414722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multi_fan_writing/pseuds/multi_fan_writing
Summary: Craig Tucker is just a lonely art nerd with only five friends and a big fat crush to his name, and one friend keeps harassing him about auditioning for some musical.Tweek Tweak is a theater geek rushing around to do the best he can in his whacky school and get some credit by auditioning for a musical.Kenny McCormick is an orchestrater of chaos and just wants his idiotic friend to talk with his crush already while he, too, is pining his ass off.Butters Scotch just wants to get credit for his classes so he can sleep at night peacefully, or as peacefully as a High School student can.Kyle Broflovski is pinning too, for his Super Best Friend no less, and he wonders if signing up for a musical will help him at all.Stan Marsh is in need of some extra service hours and what better way to achieve that than to sign up for the new musical!Eric Cartman thinks that this is stupid, why do they get to have their own musical? Eric Cartman decides someone needs to take them down a peg.Princess is stuck giving advice to all these losers and their gay asses, might as well go along with it.





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a big part of the story but I'll try to be quick with my explanation:
> 
> So, for this High School its influenced by my own school, which has Charter Schools!
> 
> A Charter School is a publicly funded independent school established by teachers, parents, or community groups under the terms of a charter with a local or national authority.
> 
> The two present Charter Schools in this fic are called 'Create', a performance and art based school with 4 focus groups (Writing focused people, Art focused people, Theater focused people and Music focused people), and 'S.E.A.M.M', which is more focused around 'Science, Engineering, and Modern Medicine'.
> 
> And then there is a normal High School that the majority of the student occupy, but we focus more on the Create school for this fic.
> 
>  
> 
> All you need to know about the characters:
> 
> \- Most are in their Junior year
> 
> \- Create students are as follows:  
> \- Kenny (Art)  
> \- Craig (Art)  
> \- Butters (Writing, transferred in around Junior year)  
> \- Tweek (Theater, moved to South Park in Sophomore year)  
> \- Clyde (Theater, transferred in around Sophomore year)  
> \- Wendy (Music)  
> \- Mr.Mackey (English teacher)  
> \- Mr.Garrison (No he is not President in this fic, sorry, Theater crazed lunatic)
> 
> \- S.E.A.M.M students are:  
> \- Token (Focuses on engineering)  
> \- Kyle (Focuses on medicine)
> 
> \- Normal High School:  
> \- Cartman (Hates Charter School kids)  
> \- Stan (Chill Jock)
> 
> \- There is a lot of prejudiced people in the Normal High Schools that think like Cartman does about the Charter Schools and hate them, but it isn't shown a lot outside of Cartman because there's too many people in this fic already
> 
>  
> 
> That's all really! Continue forth my children and enjoy an awful fic!

“Kenny, if you don’t shut up I’m going to stab you with an exacto-blade,” Craig grunted, pencil creaking under his tight grip. His eyes darted over to the current bane of his existence as he heard a snort. Craig frowned at the sight of his friends stupid ass grin. “I’m serious.”

  
“If you really were serious, you would’ve stabbed me over a hundred times at this point,” Kenny joked, turning in his chair, his back to Craig. Butters looked at the two with concern, but didn’t try to intervene, setting for fidgeting uncomfortably on his wobbly stool.

  
“Anyway, Butters! Your story?”

  
Butters’ eyes lit up. “Right! Well, I was hoping you could look over it for me?”

  
Craig nearly smacked his head onto the table as Kenny agreed. At this rate he was never going to get any work done with how loud they were going to be. His eyes wandered to the clock, praying that time would hurry up. Unfortunately it only seemed to go slower. Craig fiddled with his pencil, staring aimlessly out the glass door. He paused as he saw someone sitting alone with a laptop next to him, his lips twitching upwards. He finally had something to draw.

  
Craig jolted as two hands slammed on the table and he looked over at the perpetrator, Kenny. He should have guessed.

  
“I’m rewriting this.”

  
Butters spluttered at the words and Craig raised an eyebrow.

  
“What do you mean?”

  
“Sorry to say, but your story sucks,” Kenny said, staring pointedly at the smaller male. “Your ‘conflict’ is the character wanting to make his friend into his BEST friend, your characters have no depth, and to top it off there’s no plot at all besides the ‘best friend’ thing, just a bunch of random mini stories mashed together.”

  
Craig’s eyebrows raised higher as he looked between the two. Seeing Kenny so serious about something not related to art was… surprising, to say the least.  
Butters’ pouted, shuffling in place. He tried to sputter out a proper response, Kenny held a hand up and smiled. “So, I’ll rewrite it. You can still get credit for it and if anyone asks I just corrected it!”

  
“Isn’t that… lying?”

  
“No, it’s a collaboration, kinda. Isn’t our school all about helping others with their preferred arts?” Kenny’s smile was becoming downright devilish at that point and Craig felt his gut twisting in a uncomfortable fashion. He never trusted Kenny when his eyes had that type of mischievous glint.

  
Butters didn’t seemed calmed by it, either. As he shouldn’t, Craig thought to himself. But the small blonde merely sighed, fingers fiddling. “Fine. But promise I’ll still get credit for it in my writing class?”

  
“Swear it on my life.”

  
Butters, seeming slightly more reassured, nodded. “Well, alright then, I guess. See you at lunch?”

  
Kenny hummed in agreement and Butters nodded again, standing up to brush himself off before walking away. As soon as he was out of sight Kenny pushed away from the table. Craig huffed, forcing his attention back to the blank paper. It didn’t take long for Kenny to plop himself down again, biting off the cap to a red sharpie.

  
“Hey, Tucker, I was thinking there should be some romance in this. What do you think?” Kenny asked and Craig only shrugged, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the sketchbook in front of him. He needed to get at least one sketch done, or else the whole school day was pretty much spent staring at a wall and listening to late 2000’s music. “That’s what I thought. Thanks!” Kenny chirped cheerfully and Craig hunched over his paper, eyebrow twitching in annoyance. Thankfully the rest of the hour he went uninterrupted, but all he had managed to draw were basic sketches of the cute boy from outside the classroom.

* * *

A yelp left Tweek’s mouth as he felt a hand grab his shoulder, pulling him away from his destination full of under cooked ‘food’. He jerked away, turning and relaxing, at least a little bit, as he realized it was only Butters Scotch.

  
“Sorry for scarin’ ya there, Tweek! I just wanted to ask a favor of ya’!” Butters said and Tweek began to grow nervous yet again. Firstly, no one ever asked him for favors. He was the one who usually needed help in one way or another. Second, though Butters had been disowned by the ultimate bully of every charter student after he joined Create, he couldn’t help but be afraid of being dragged into a scheme that would end with him dying in some horrific fashion. All, of course, orchestrated by the devil himself, Eric Cartman. Even thinking his name sent shivers down his spine.

  
“Favor?” Tweek asked, fully turning to the other blonde. He gave him a nervous smile before Butters nodded, mirroring his nervousness and continuing.  
“Well, less of a favor and more of an opportunity for credit. Lord knows we all need that!” Tweek interest perked at that.

  
“Oh, right, don’t you need like… four extra credits of English since you became a writing focus?” He asked and Butters flinched at the mere mention of EXTRA credit on top of all of the other credit they needed.

  
“Yeah… well, I was hoping you could audition for my film! It's just a standard film about-”

  
Tweek was never able to figure out what the ‘film’ was about because another voice reached out to the two of them, making Tweek jolt. His head snapped in the direction of the voice and saw the infamous Kenny McCormick rushing over to them, his excitement evident from the way his eyes lit up.

  
“Oh! Hey there, Kenny! Did you-”

  
“Finish rewriting the story? Sure did,” Kenny said and skidded to a stop in front of them and clapped Butters in the back. “Going to be the best musical our school has ever made!”

  
Tweek raised an eyebrow as Butters smile fell, a look of confusion crossing his features as he began to process what Kenny had just told him.

  
“M...musical?” Butters asked but Kenny was already running off.

  
“I’ll talk to you about it later! I’m going to make sure I can get flyers printed at the library!”

  
“I thought you, erk, said it was a film?” Tweek butted in and Butters eyes darted back and forth, completely stumped. Tweek opened his mouth to continue but stopped, twitching and another odd sound leaving his mouth as, yet again, a voice cut through.

  
“Butters!”

  
Mr.Mackey.

  
Butters fumbled over his words as they were approached by the teacher, unable to get anything cohesive out before Mr.Mackey continued, “I read over that script you and Mr.McCormick wrote, m’kay, and I’m very proud of how much you have improved. I can’t wait to see the musical, m’kay!”

  
Butters was silent before he finally seemed to work out whatever was happening in his head. Without another word, he took off in the direction the orange clad boy had ran off to. “Kenny!” And ran off in the same direction the orange clad boy had ran off to. Tweek blinked a few times, about to slink away before Mr.Mackey turned his attention towards him now, not seeming bothered by Butters sudden mad dash for the art focus in the slightest. “Mr.Tweak! You’re going to be auditioning I’m guessing?”

  
Tweek hesitated, twitching a little and his nails scraping against his arms as he played with his sleeves,. “I… think so?”

  
Mr.Mackey beamed,

  
“Good to hear! Knowing you are going to be there, I have no doubt it will be great!” He exclaimed, then passed Tweek to go on his way. Tweek stood there for a little while longer, completely dumbfounded by the scene that had played out in front of him. He was broken out of his thoughts as his stomach rumbled and he forced himself to finally start heading to the cafeteria again, practically sprinting. He didn’t want to starve to death, or pass out from dehydration, or suffer any number of other possible ways his day could go horribly wrong, after all.

* * *

Kyle kicked at the printer, brows furrowing. A heavy sigh left his lips and he glanced up at the blonde watching him with amusement. Kyle threw the boy a glare as he probed one of the hatches with his finger, pulling open the paper compartment and seeing it was, indeed, filled. With a frown, he slammed it shut, box of shitty wires and plastic shaking a little under the force. He was about to check the ink again but the moment he heard a small laugh he turned sharply, instead.

  
“Could you stop that?” He hissed through grit teeth.

  
“Stop what?” Kenny asked, leaning forward. His arms rested on the backrest of the chair he had plopped down onto, head tilting and a large smile worming its way onto his face. Kyle grumbled, looking to the printer and not dignifying the question with any sort of response. He kicked it again, as if it would help.

  
“What do you even need the printer for, anyway?”

  
“Posters, for the musical.” The jew glowered at the other, turning away from the printer fully this time.

  
“The musical isn’t until December.” He said, crossing his arms.

  
“No, no! Not that musical,” Kenny swung one of his legs over the chair to stand, hands being shoved into his pockets. He sauntered up to the curly haired boy, whose look was near murderous. Still, he stood to his side and clamped a hand over his shoulder, raising his other hand to the sky, “Imagine! Create having their own little musical! Isn’t that fitting of a performance arts school?”

  
Kyle’s frown deepened, sinking under the weight of the others arm, “When was that decided?”

  
“Today.” Kenny said offhandedly and nudged Kyle lightly. He didn’t look impressed in the slightest. “You should try out for it! It’d be fun to see you out of your hobbit hole.”  
Kyle snorted and nudged back, more harshly than the light one he had received, smirking as he saw Kenny wince. “Unless you can fix this shitty printer, no way.”

  
The taller male shrugged after pulling his hand away, slipping it back into his pocket. “It was worth a shot,” A pause and the blonde shifted closer to the shorter male. “You would’ve been adorable on stage, you know?”

  
The redhead rolled his eyes and scoffed, pulling away to step forward, arms unraveling to fiddle with the printer screen. “Gee, thanks.” He muttered, a chuckle reaching his ears just a moment later. Kyle’s head shot up and Kenny huffed.

  
“Hey, Stan.” The blonde mumbled, his hands pushing deeper into his jacket.

  
Stan flashed a grin that made Kyle’s stomach twist and he raised his hand in a wave. “Hey Ken, hey Kyle,” He said. “Is the printer broken again?”

  
Kyle nodded and looked back to the hunk of plastic, pulling his hands away from it. “It breaks at least once a week. I don’t understand why we just don’t get a new one.” He admitted and Stan hummed, having heard the entire speech before. Stan slid over and Kyle could see Kenny frown as he moved out of the way to make room for him. The noirette pushed at a few buttons on the printer screen before him, soft beeping noises emitting from the large box, Kyle’s eyes wandering in the process.

  
“Kyle, it’s out of ink,” Kyle’s head snapped up in time to notice Stan shaking his head, staring at the screen in amusement. “I’m surprised you missed it, though I guess you always overlook the simple things.” A smile played at his lips, blue eyes shocking Kyle to his core.

  
Kenny’s smile returned at that, as weak as it was, leaning back against one of the bookshelves. “I thought that was obvious by now.”

  
“Oh stop it, you two!” Kyle said, finally managing to speak up. He punched Stan in the arm who just laughed, stepping aside as Kyle moved forward to see for himself. The screen was now flashing a ‘low-ink’ sign at him and his eye twitched.

  
Stan’s attention turned to the tallest of the trio. “What did you need the printer for?” He asked as Kyle grumbled and punched at the power button.

  
Kenny’s smile fell and he opened his mouth to speak but it clicked shut as the doors burst open. Butters, looking more furious than ever, stormed in and spotted the blonde instantaneously.

  
“Ken! There you are!” Butters nearly shouted and Kyle’s annoyance only grew.

  
“No yelling in the library!” He seethed, stamping his foot on the ground. Butters flinched, seeming to cave as he shrunk back, fingers twisting together as he lowered his hands to his stomach. But he then shook his head, forcing himself to straighten.

  
“S-sorry there, Kyle, but I need to grab our friend, Kenny, here for a moment.” Butters turned to Kenny who just sighed, pushing off the shelf and turning to face the redhead.

  
“Well, guess I’ll see you when that printer is fixed, Broflovski.” Kenny said with a wink before his arm was grasped tightly by the smaller blonde. Butters dragged off a stumbling Kenny McCormick and Stan let out a chuckle that drew Kyle’s attention back towards him.

  
“Going to take a wild guess and say the reason why Kenny was dragged off was the somehow related to why he was here at all.” The taller male murmured and Kyle huffed, lightly elbowing Stan.

  
“Hell if I know.” He grumbled and turned to head for the library desk. “Help me find the ink cartridges?”

  
“Of course, dude.”


	2. Chess Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig is sick of this shit already and just wants to work in peace.
> 
> Tweek is on a mission to help someone because of friendships.
> 
> Kenny is evil now, or maybe he's just always been this devious.
> 
> Kyle is considering doing something that is probably a dumb idea.

Craig raised his head, ready to smack it against the low tables of the art room as he heard his teacher call out to the class. She irritated him more than anything else, even her voice made him want to keel over. The only thing that stopped him from doing that in the moment was the sight of Kenny standing at the front of the room with Butters. Kenny’s grin was unnerving with how wide it was and it was easy to tell he was elated to have so many people’s eyes on him, while Butters beside him looked more pensive, eyes shifting about and his hands fumbling.

“Hey, art nerds! You know me, Kenny McCormick, and my handsome helping hand, Butters Scotch!” The taller blonde said, gesturing to Butters who waved shyly, cheeks pink and he flashed a wide smile. Craig, in response to this, frowned but set down his pencil to pay attention to the duo.

“Anyway, we’re here to tell you a tale, a tale of jealousy, love, cliches-”

“Create will be putting on a musical next month.” Butters said, cutting in and placing a hand on Kenny’s shoulder in an attempt to silence him.

To Craig the thought of trying out for something that had picked favorites was the definition of insane. Repeating something over and over and expecting a different result. No matter who it was run by it was always the same few people who got picked out, not to say that they weren’t good. Plenty of the favorites were good in acting and in looks, like the twitchy blonde who always grabbed lead, the one he had seen outside only a few days ago.

He could feel his lips twitch up, but he forced the warm feeling in his chest down as he noticed Kenny’s mouth opening again.

“You’re no fun.” The taller blonde joked before clearing his throat. “Anyway, we’re opening up auditions at the end of the week and we’ll have the scripts by the end of tomorrow,” His eyes locked with the noirette’s own, Craig feeling his heart stop for a moment. Oh no. “Come talk to me or Butters if you’re interested in snagging one!”

The taller male pulled his eyes away, picking up his pencil again and looking back down to his sketchbook. He had no intention of getting involved in any more of Kenny’s scheming, and he had no intention of asking for a script either, as much as the blonde duo would have _loved_ it.

He only started to sketch out the rough base of a body when a smack to the area beside him jolted him out of focus, a line etched deep into his paper after his pencil moved with him. A scowl appeared on Craig’s face as he looked to the culprit.

A large stack of papers- that was probably one of the dreaded scripts that were mentioned before- and Kenny McCormick’s smug grin as Butters fidgeted behind him.

“You should try out.” Kenny said, as if it wasn’t obvious enough that he wanted Craig to join, to become a pawn in whatever game the man had in mind.

Craig sat there for a few moments, just staring. Kenny wasn’t wavered, or at least he didn’t show it, Butters, on the other hand, shifted under his gaze and only when he was about to break did Craig look away. He stared at the script before he pushed it away, his focus returning to his drawing as tried to scratch away the line on his paper with his non-existent eraser. “No.”

“Tweek’s going to be there,” Kenny singsonged and Craig found himself freezing at the name.

The noirette looked up as Kenny leaned over, elbows resting on the table, now eye level with him.

“You know, the cute boy from theatre focus you always draw?” His voice lowered to a whisper as he pushed the packet back towards him. The blonde’s eyes glinted mischievously as Craig looked at the packet again, grip growing tight on the pencil in his hand.

He knew there was probably no chance of getting into the musical, even with Kenny and Butters being the leaders of it rather than their stuck up choir teacher, and he was about to voice this fact, head tilting up, when he was easily cut off.

“There’s a kissing scene and Tweek is sure to grab the lead, as you know,” Kenny McCormick was the devil, Craig was sure as the grin on the blonde’s face morphed into an impish smirk. His own face heated in a mix of anger and embarrassment, fingers aching from how hard he was gripping his pencil, now. “Would be a shame if someone else grabbed the second lead and, I don’t know, got some action with-”

“What are you getting out of this, McCormick?” Craig hissed through his teeth, smacking his pencil down onto the table, palm red and pulsing. He was still trying, of course, to keep it under control, but he could tell Kenny saw something to warn him he was close to breaking, seeing as he pulled away, standing up and holding his hands up in a weak surrender.

The chuckle that left the taller blonde’s lips didn’t help calm him, either.

“Easy, Tiger,” Kenny’s smirk morphed into a genuine smile and his hands dropped to his sides after a relaxed shrug.

Craig squinted at him as he plopped himself down into the seat beside him, scowl easing up even after the uncomfortable nudge to his side. Kenny was trying to calm him down, now, and he hated that it was working, even if only minorly. “I just want my bestest friend to be happy, is that so much of a crime?”

“You’re not my best friend.” That title belonged to childhood friend, Clyde Donovan, as much of an idiot as he was. But, even still… Craig looked back to his sketchbook, brows furrowing. It wouldn’t kill him to try, he guessed, and if he could manage he could try and convince Clyde to give him some acting lessons.

It wouldn’t help much, Clyde sucked at acting. Even though he was theatre based, he sucked, but it would still be something.

A fighting chance, however small, at weaseling his way into the musical and maybe getting to pull in second lead, with Tweek Tweak being the first.

“Fine, I’ll try.” The noirette said suddenly, standing up and grabbing the script. “Just to get you off my back.” A boldface lie that only Kenny could see through, but he didn’t care, and as much as Craig hated it he couldn’t help the upward tilt of his lips as Kenny’s eyes sparkled with excitement, and maybe a little bit of pride.

“Perfect! Let’s go, Buttercup! We have other people to recruit!” Kenny said, hopping up from his seat and grabbing Butters arm, dragging him off before he could protest. Butters gave Craig a small wave before he was completely pulled out of the room and Craig sighed, shaking his head.

He looked down at the script in his hand, his nose wrinkled instantly as he read the title. ‘Connected’. Butters probably came up with it, he thought as he grabbed his bag and shoved the script inside.

Craig decided could read it later, and maybe by then he’d have some advice from Clyde on how to act.

* * *

Tweek yelled in frustration, kicking the white box in the middle of the room. The past ten minutes had been spent pacing as he practiced his monologue for the next Drama Club meetup, hair more frazzled than usual and paper in his hand crumpled.

It wasn’t a problem of memorization, that was the easy part, it was the thought of so many judging eyes on him. Plays were easy because it was all about the story and investing yourself in it, and unless he was especially bad no one who wasn’t a theatre focus would notice if he screwed up. It wasn’t a critique, which was all about improvement, and as much as he wanted to improve it was impossible to put on his best performance with all the pressure of eyes searching for every little screw up, whether it was a stumble in words, a twitch or a nervous squeak.

He yelled again, this time in surprise as he heard a knock to the open door, spinning and finding himself staring at the blonde duo from yesterday. Butters and Kenny.

“You doing alright, Tweek?” Butters asked, smiling nervously and Tweek felt himself twitch rather violently.

“No… N-no, wait! I mean, y-yes, yeah, I’m okay!” Tweek fumbled, feeling the urge to tear at the paper in his hands, forcing himself to set it down, or rather smack it onto the surface of the box he had kicked earlier. “What do you need?”

He saw Butters glance towards the taller blonde next to him who nodded and stepped forward. “We we’re just wondering if you we’re still going to try out for our musical?”

Tweek hesitated. “I… guess? Is that all?”

Kenny and Butters shared a look again, causing Tweek to only grow more nervous. Kenny shrugged and Butters took the lead once again, walking over to Tweek and grasping his hands, the twitchy blonde trying not to wrench away from the sudden cold against his skin.

“Well, Kenny has this friend who wants to try out for the musical but… he’s… he doesn’t really know how to act?” Butters looked to Kenny for help, who jumped in instantly, walking forward as well, hand resting on Butters’ shoulder.

“Exactly. And you’re the best actor in school,” Kenny had no idea what he was talking about, Tweek decided that as soon as he heard the praise. “So we were wondering if you would help him out, teach him a few tricks and all that.” Kenny flashed a wide toothy smile.

Tweek hesitated and pulled back from Butters’ death cold grip. His eyes flashed to the monologue that lay unforgotten on the white box, teeth worrying against his lower lip and pulling at the chapped skin.

He knew worrying over the monologue would only cause him to panic more over all the possibilities of humiliation that waited, and helping someone would be an easy way out and a good way to distract himself.

He looked back to Butters who looked at him in an almost pleading manner. He supposed that not many at this time of the school year would be really interested in joining the musical, and at that Tweek let out a sigh, shoulders slumping and he found himself slowly relaxing as he was simultaneously more and more tempted by the idea of helping this ‘friend’. There were more positives than negatives, and as long as the guy wasn’t a axe murderer Tweek was almost sure that he would live through one extra social experience.

“When… when is he free?” He asked, finally.

Butters eyes instantly lit up at that and he dug something out of his satchel, a script, handing it over as he began to ramble on. “Well, I’m not quite sure about that, but I do know later on today he’ll be in the art room, after lunch you can go on and ask him yourself!”

“Craig Tucker, black hair and he’s always wearing one of those flappy ear hat things.” Kenny provided helpfully as Tweek took the script in hand and scanned it over as he listened.

“A chullo?” Tweek asked as he looked back up, thinking back to a boy with a similar hat he had seen through the glass door of the art room only a day or two ago.

“That’s it!” The tallest male said and clapped the smaller male on the back, Tweek lurching forward from the force and yelping softly.

Butters patted Tweek on the shoulder, much more gently than Kenny’s sudden shove he had experienced seconds ago. “Thank you so much, Tweek! You’re a real pal!”

“Y-yeah, yeah, no problem.” Tweek smiled and Butters returned it easily and it was only a few moments later that Butters and Kenny scurried off, leaving Tweek all alone in the little practice room.

Craig Tucker. Tweek repeated the name over and over in his mind as he set the script down near the crumpled monologue he had set down earlier.

Well, if Butters was somewhat friendly with him he couldn’t be too bad, McCormick was another story. Another sigh left the lone blonde’s lips as he took a glance at the clock.

T minus an hour and seven minutes until lunch, and then after that he would go see Craig and work out a time to work on his acting skills.

Tweek nodded firmly to himself and, carefully mind you, grabbed his monologue to continue practicing, himself.

* * *

 He was planning Kenny’s death, Craig decided on a whim as he stared at the blonde he had seen around so often, who was, unsurprisingly, twitching and fiddling with the hem of his horribly buttoned shirt.

It just added to his charm.

“So, u-uhm,” Tweek’s voice was so much better when it wasn’t muffled or screwed up through the school’s shitty stage mics, another thing Craig decided on the spot. “You… needed help with acting, I heard?”

Oh yes, Kenny would be suffering through days of torture, a slow death, and his funeral would be Craig flipping off everyone who came, save for Karen. Or maybe he’d just tell that librarian guy- Kyle, he thinks -that Kenny wants to be a little more than ‘just friends’. Or ask Princess, the school’s gossip and advice column, how small Kenny’s dick was. She’d burn him with some scathing answer and that would leave Kenny in shame and unable to come to school for many, many weeks.

“Craig?” That voice, it dragged him back and the noirette fumbled before he swallowed thickly, trying to will away the blood rushing to his cheeks already. Stay cool, Tucker, stay a cool, unfeeling asshole. A task he was sure was impossible with Tweak standing in front of him.

“Yeah uh, sorry, not good with… people.” Craig nearly slammed his head down onto the table before him for the second time that day at the lame excuse. There was no stopping his cheeks burning red, or that warm ache in his chest as Tweek smiled, fucking smiled, all teeth and- oh god were those freckles?

“Me neither, er, either? F-fuck, sorry,” The blonde spluttered, chuckling a little and fuck, Craig wanted to hear more of that. He raised a hand, voice coming out a bit scratchy as he spoke up.

“No its okay, uhm,” The taller male tried to reassure, clearing his throat before continuing. “What was that about helping me with acting?”

Tweek seemed puzzled by the question, and if the inquisitive look wasn’t cute enough he had to tilt his head just slightly to make it worse. “Kenny didn’t tell you?”

That confirmed it. As much as Craig loved the fact that he was actually CONVERSING with his… crush, he would have liked to have done it on his own terms, and not apart of whatever scheme Kenny was planning for the ‘lols’.

“No.” Craig said bluntly, trying to hold back any anger he might hold towards the idea that the only reason Tweek was talking to him was because of his ‘friend’.

“O-oh!” The blonde hesitated. “Well, Kenny told me you, g-gah, needed some acting tips, we’re a bit worried about getting into the musical and a-all that… or something like that.”

The musical, of course. Another pawn in a huge game of chess. What even was the big deal with this musical anyway?

“Sorry, I didn’t r-realize he didn’t t-tell you he was getting help! I can leave if-”

“No!” Craig may die before he could act on any of his plans he had for Kenny’s death and public shaming, at the rate he was going he was going to lose all the blood in his limbs as it rushed to his cheeks. “I mean, you and I can hang out later and you can… help me, or whatever.”

Tweek’s shoulders slumped and he could see his face melt into a soft smile, and the taller male could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage at that point. His fidgeting even began to cease in intensity, and his hands finally released the edge of his shirt. “Really?”

“Really.” Craig replied, voice firm.

The blonde then grabbed for a piece of paper after nodding, as he spoke Craig found himself unable to focus, watching as he wrote down a time and place to meet as his mind reeled.

Tweak Tweak was officially the only person to make Craig lose his cool since Elementary school, and it was easily the most embarrassing thing he had ever taken apart of. Also undeniable, the fact that this ‘crush’ Craig had was getting way out of hand.

Craig watched as the blonde waved him goodbye as he turned to leave once done writing. He merely continued to watch as Tweek walked out of the art room, having the urge to smack his head down onto the table as his heart tugged.

This time, however, the noirette did exactly that. His forehead ached, brain rattling about in his skull and pounding. He was sure there was at least three people staring at him in a mix of shock, confusion and annoyance. At least Kenny wasn’t here to tease him about the interaction.

Craig raised his head finally to look to the clock after a long while and let out a heavy sigh as he pushed himself up completely. He stood and grabbed for his stuff on the table, beginning to gather it all up when he hesitated as he spotted the drawing he had made, nearly cursing.

There lay his rather awfully drawn Tweek, and he could only pray to god that the boy hadn’t seen it as he quickly snatched up the sketchbook, as well as the note from the other, shoving both items into his bag as the bell rang.

With another sigh, Craig decided he better cancel his plans with Clyde and get to his next class. After that… he was going to be stuck practically alone with an unbearable crush on someone who probably didn’t know he existed until now.

He was utterly and completely fucked.

* * *

Kyle was wandering through the halls, trying to find the book room to return a book accidentally turned into the library, when he overheard the two talking. The two being the guidance counselor, or one of them, and none other than his friend, Stan Marsh.

He hadn’t really meant to eavesdrop but he couldn’t find it in himself to walk past them and instead found himself ducking behind the corner. And because of this he just so happened to start listening in.

“Stan, you are a phenomenal student, but you need to do something other than sports and get more service hours in order to get into this college,” Kyle could practically hear the frown in the counselor’s voice as he spoke, and that made his gut twist uncomfortably. “That's why I recommended you do something while your preferred sports aren’t in season yet.”

“Yeah, but-”

“No buts, Stan,” Kyle nearly flinched at the tone, frowning himself. Rule number one, never talk back to a teacher, even if they are wrong or being unfair in every way imaginable. “You need to do something-”

“If I may,” The redhead straightened, shoulders digging into the wall behind him as his eyes widened at the sound of a new voice. Mr.Garrison, he was sure it was. “Pardon me for intruding on your… conversation, but I know a way Stanley here can get those service hours and extra transcript material.”

Kyle slid against the wall over to the corner edge to get a peek at his black haired friend and the two teachers, watching as the counselor huffed and turned to look at the new teacher who had appeared, causing Kyle to duck slightly in case he was seen.

Mr.Garrison had always been one or two screws loose, so he could imagine where the distaste for him might’ve come from. What he didn’t understand was why the teacher would be helping Stan, considering his own distaste for all of the student, whether Create or not.

“Oh? And what would that be, Mr.Garrison?”

“Well, there's this punk named Kenny who with the help of some writer is doing a musical for the schools. It was originally going to be enclosed for Create to perform and set up on their own, but I’m sure we could open it up to the rest of the schools for those willing to join. In fact...” Kyle began to tune out after that as he pulled himself back around the corner again.

A musical, _the_ musical Kenny had been talking about yesterday.

The male began to chew on his lower lip as his head spun with all the possibilities, and thinking about it, maybe he should join, after all. He most likely wouldn’t get anything big, role wise, but the possibility of getting to hang out with Stan more, like they did when they were younger, was tempting enough all on its own.

And Kenny did want him to join, so he would most likely try to get him on even if it was only a minor role, or hell, even a stand in.

He still couldn’t fathom why on earth Kenny would want him to join in the first place, and it felt like it was the Princess fiasco all over again, where months ago it turned out Princess, or everyone assumed with the large hints she left in her columns, may have found Kyle attractive.

It was all anyone could talk about for weeks, at least if Princess was brought up. The fact that she thought Kyle, who had been voted the most ugly of his classmates back in Freshman year, was attractive seemed to shock everyone, especially the girls who spent days running around trying as many had before them, to find out who ‘Princess’ was, either to smack some sense into her or find out what exactly it was she found attractive about the redhead.

Kyle shook his head wildly, trying to focus in on the conversation again, but found that it was over by the dead beat of silence. He hesitated before he looked around the corner again, seeing Mr.Garrison and Stan’s counselor were, indeed, gone, leaving Stan standing alone.

He jolted and nearly ducked behind the wall again as Stan turned, but stopped as his voice reached out to him. “Dude, you have to get better at sneaking if you’re going to eavesdrop. I’m surprised those two didn’t notice you.” A smile lit up the taller male’s face, and a blush spread across Kyle’s own out of plain old embarrassment for being caught so easily.

“How did you even know it was me?” He muttered, rather defensively, as he wandered around the corner completely, arms crossing over his chest.

Stan snickered. “No one else has your crazy hair, or the same shade of red,” A pause. “I saw you peeking out from around the corner, multiple times.”

“You did not!” Kyle protested in an instant and his face only grew hotter as the other started to laugh.

“Yeah, I totally did!”

The jew rolled his eyes, letting out a huff before a smile slowly graced his lips. “Well, fine, maybe you did,” He mumbled, his shoulders slumping. “You’re more observant than I thought.”

“You’re the less observant one out of the two of us, remember? We decided this yesterday,” Stan let out another chuckle as he walked over finally, nudging the shorter male gently. Kyle bumped him back as he spoke again. “So, what do you think?”

Kyle quirked a brow, head cocking slightly to the side. “About what?”

“You know, the musical,” He could see Stan biting his lower lip, tugging on the skin. A nervous habit that he had picked up, starting around the third time Stan had thrown up on Wendy, eventually evolving from a ‘holding back vomit’ habit to an all around nervous tick. “Should I join?”

“I… I mean of course I think you should, it’ll be beneficial for you,” Kyle responded easily before he hesitated. Might as well suggest his thoughts from earlier. “I’ll join you, if you want, so you’re less nervous about the whole thing.” Even if it meant phrasing it so it was less ‘I want to spend more time with you’ and more ‘I’ll do it to benefit you’.

The grin that lit up Stan’s face was worth whatever embarrassment Kyle would receive while on stage and however much lying he had to do to make his crush less obvious. “Really?”

Kyle’s gut twisted.

Out of all the things he was going to end up doing, he was going to spend his free time practicing for a musical, just to get closer to Stan.

“Really.”


End file.
